


now three of us here lie

by possibilityleft



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Jedi Training, M/M, Multi, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2015-10-30
Packaged: 2018-04-28 22:13:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5107544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/possibilityleft/pseuds/possibilityleft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Afterwards, curled up in a comfortable heap, Leia's head pillowed on Luke's shoulder and Han's arm wrapped across Luke's waist, Han would sometimes say, "I've got to get me one of those lightsabers. A yellow one, probably."</p>
            </blockquote>





	now three of us here lie

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Merfilly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/gifts).



There wasn't much about the Jedi order that Han found interesting, despite the fact that his partners were both members. He had specific questions, first of which was whether or not the new Jedi were allowed to date, unlike the weird old monks that Han vaguely remembered hearing about as a kid. Obi-Wan might have known a lot, but that guy had been strange. Probably because he never got laid. 

Fortunately the man running the Jedi revival movement had no intention of giving up his lovers, so once Han had established that he still had bedroom privileges, he spent most of the time Luke was teaching making his own unhelpful aside comments. 

Luke didn't get mad-- it was hard to get a rise out of him now. Han had the idea that he'd put away his passions like a man folded his clothes, except that Luke only ever pulled out the nice ones now. It made Han want to laugh when he wasn't annoyed by it. There was no challenge to teasing Leia to distraction (not that it stopped him), but it usually took both of them combined to break Luke's preternatural calm. 

Instead of complaining about Han's skeptical attitude, Luke changed tactics. He sent his sister messages when he was away on missions, long stories about the dangers they were still all facing, and who their people had been. Jedi correspondence school. Han hadn't even known until he walked in on Leia watching a message once, Luke's projection seeming strange and ghostly as he talked to Leia, not seeing her standing before him. 

Leia had looked up at Han, surprised at his entrance, and her look was half worried, half defiant. He'd just left. This was something the two of them were going to share, something he'd never quite get. Honestly, he was hardly jealous. Wasn't like any of them spoke Wookiee or complained too loudly when he took the Falcon out for a spin to get rid of excess energy.   
But he did like to watch them fight. 

There was a whole story behind the lightsaber and the way it channeled the Force and blah blah. Han liked the thrumming in his chest that he felt when their blades crossed, the grace and care with which they wielded the blades. Han had been in plenty of fights in his life, but none of them had been like this. He'd fought for his life, but it had never had dance and danger meeting like this, a fight that only served to highlight Luke's metal hand, the price of one wrong movement. 

Leia's lightsaber glowed bright blue, blinding, with all the strength and stubbornness that Han loved about her, and Luke's was the cool green of balance and loyalty. Han watched the way Luke smiled when Leia was doing well and the way he bit his lip when he had to concentrate. Han wasn't getting in the middle of their sparring-- he liked having all of his fingers-- but often he was fidgeting before they finished, watching the sweat glisten at the small of Leia's back. 

They were always worn out afterwards, the first new Jedi, heady on their powers, and Han would herd them back down hallways to their bedroom, stripping them down as he shut the door behind them. He checked them over in silence, rubbing at tired muscle and sliding his knuckles along smooth skin until he could wait no longer and had to put his mouth to skin, whoever was nearest. 

Afterwards, curled up in a comfortable heap, Leia's head pillowed on Luke's shoulder and Han's arm wrapped across Luke's waist, Han would sometimes say, "I've got to get me one of those lightsabers. A yellow one, probably." 

"No way!" the siblings would protest in unison, and then laugh at each other's reaction. 

"I see how it is," Han would say, pretending at hurt. "There's not enough room in this relationship for three swords, is it?" 

The tickling would start in earnest then and the question would never be answered to any satisfaction, but Han didn't mind. He didn't really want to wear those weird robes anyway.


End file.
